Bound by Time, Claimed by Him

Prologue – The Clock That Bled

The bells of Etherna tolled twelve times. Midnight.

The sky above the palace was black, swallowed by the rare lunar eclipse that came once in a hundred years. The blood moon loomed high, its glow casting an eerie crimson veil over the city of glass and stone. And within the royal halls of Etherna, fire had begun to spread—fast and furious.

Serene Elira ran barefoot across the palace floor, the cold marble now slick with blood and moonlight. Her breath came in shallow bursts, but her heart thundered like war drums.

Behind her, the screams grew louder—soldiers clashing with each other in chaos, shouts in Old Etherni tongue echoing off broken stained-glass windows. The golden banners that once bore the royal sigil now burned, curled, and crumbled in flames.

She didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

Her white bridal gown, once delicate silk and shimmering starlace, was now torn and stained—ashes at the hem, blood at the sleeves. Her hands trembled as she gripped the moonstone amulet tight, the pendant glowing faintly with blue light. Each beat of its glow mirrored the rapid throb in her chest.

The Time Gate was near.

Serene had never seen it herself. It had only ever existed in forbidden scrolls and whispered stories from her childhood—of ancient magic sealed away for a reason, of doors that opened not just to places, but to entire realities.

“Time is not a thread to be pulled,” the old priestess had once told her. “It’s a wound that never heals. And those who touch it... bleed.”

But Serene was already bleeding.

She had no choice but to tear the wound wide open.

Just hours ago, she had stood beneath the golden dome of the inner sanctum, her body wrapped in ceremonial silks, her lips painted with crushed opal dust, and her fingers adorned with jewels she never asked for.

She was a bride.

No—she was a bargaining chip. A peace offering. A prisoner in velvet.

And the man she was meant to marry—Auren Kain, Crown Prince of Etherna—had not spoken a single word to her during the entire engagement. Not a smile. Not a single shred of warmth.

But his eyes... gods, his eyes haunted her.

Silver like a frozen blade. Sharp. Calculated. Cold.

Once, she thought he was silent because he was shy. Or noble. Or wounded by the weight of the crown. But then she found the prophecy.

Hidden in the library beneath the palace, locked in a scroll that pulsed with forbidden magic:

“If the bride breaks the timeline, the king shall fall.”

She read it over and over again, heart pounding.

The bride.

The king.

The timeline.

It wasn’t just a riddle. It was a map. A warning. A chance.

She knew what Auren would become. She’d seen it—glimpses of him cloaked in shadow, ruling over a world bathed in ruin. A tyrant with bloodstained hands. And she? Nothing more than a fading name in a forgotten tomb.

She had to escape.

Even if it meant tearing the very fabric of time.

The Time Gate waited at the end of the sacred corridor—sealed behind a wall that was no wall at all, but ancient illusion magic. It shimmered before her like glass rippling with water, its surface humming with pulses of impossible energy.

Serene paused, chest heaving.

The pendant around her neck vibrated, sensing the magic ahead. It had been the key all along—left to her by her mother, who vanished when Serene was only a child. A moonstone infused with starfire. A relic from the world before.

Behind her, she heard footsteps.

Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.

A voice called her name—deep, measured, cruelly calm.

“Auren,” she whispered, eyes wide.

She turned, just enough to see his silhouette at the far end of the corridor. Cloaked in royal black. Silver eyes glowing in the moonlit firestorm. He didn’t run. He didn’t shout.

He simply watched.

Like a god observing a mortal’s final decision.

“I never wanted this,” Serene said aloud, voice breaking. “I never wanted you.”

Auren’s voice was quiet, but it sliced through the air like a knife.

“Then why are you mine in every timeline?”

She swallowed the fear rising in her throat.

“Not this one,” she said.

And stepped through the Gate.

Time broke.

The world twisted, stretched, and collapsed around her. Light and shadow spun together in violent spirals. She felt herself falling—not down, but through.

Through memories not yet lived.

Through pain not yet felt.

Through versions of herself that screamed and bled and begged.

Then—nothing.

Silence.

When Serene opened her eyes, she was lying on a cold, metal surface. Rain splattered against her skin. Blinding lights surrounded her.

She coughed.

People shouted in a language she barely recognized—fast, clipped, sharp. Machines beeped. Something buzzed overhead.

A face appeared above her—familiar, impossibly so.

Silver eyes.

Dark suit.

No crown.